


Second chances

by CristalDePhoenix



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Reapers, M/M, mild description of gore, murder case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 09:37:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16553348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CristalDePhoenix/pseuds/CristalDePhoenix
Summary: If you had the opportunity to work with your hero, wouldn’t you?





	Second chances

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Angelwingsl3 (Marie_Fanwriter)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marie_Fanwriter/gifts).



Garrus sipped at his fifth cup of kava for the day, having spent long hours the previous day trying to get a lead, any lead, on his latest case. There was a serial killer on the loose in Bachjret ward that had the media up in arms since a prominent diplomat’s daughter was killed there two days ago. She was only the latest victim, seven other females and two males having met a similar gruesome end. The investigations department had been able to keep it on the low down until the high profile kill. He was having sleepless nights even before then over this case, but now the pressure was on to find the killer.

 

Pallin had even taken him off any other cases so he could focus on just this one. He is a good detective, had made a name for himself in the department even under his father's shadow and scrutiny. Proven that he could solve the hard cases. Even if it wasn't always in the way the Executor and his father wanted it, and they had butted heads on that more than once, he got the job done. Now more than ever they needed that ability.

 

But there was one teeny, weeny problem with that. There was no good evidence. Nothing other than that the victims were killed in the same unexplained manner, they have a heart attack even if they were in the best of health, and afterwards dismembered, having the heart removed and all the parts strewn about some alley for a passerby to find. No footprints, fingerprints, surveillance footage, DNA traces, injection mark, nothing in common between the victims themselves other than they were  either female or effeminate males. Nothing else! Not even species seemed to matter as there were two humans, two Asari, a Drell, two Salarians, two Turian and even a Hanar. (It was the first time anyone explained to him the difference between Hanar genders, but he didn’t want to think of that now.) He had all his contacts on the lookout for anything remotely relating to the case, and yet he they all had come up empty-handed. And every three to four weeks, another victim joined the count. Time was not on his side.

 

Garrus gave a sigh of exhaustion, put his mug down and used that hand to rub at his tired eyes and pinch the bridge of his nasal plates. The lines on his terminal were starting to blur in front of his crystal blue eyes, but he knew there had to be something he was missing. Some small, obscure clue. Some link or reason or testimony that sounded off. His mandibles fluttered in exasperation at his current state and lack of progress. He turned back to his terminal to go through all the evidence again.

 

A few hours later and his single-minded focus was broken by a packet of something hitting his head. He looked up bewildered for a second, blinking to get his eyes to focus on something more distant than his screen, a light annoyed growl following until he saw who it was.

 

“You can thank me later. Go home, get some sleep, and come back in the morning. You look like hell, Vakarian.” And with that, the new human officer from the office next door left his lean against the doorframe.

 

Vorster was a large, crass, loud and blunt human; but otherwise alright with him. He did his job well and didn't care if others particularly liked him for his ways. It seemed he did care enough about those around him to stop Garrus from working himself into the ground. Taking a peek at the time, the man was right. It was nearly the middle of the night cycle and he had not taken a break all day, other than to get more kava. As if to add emphasis to the point, his stomach growled loudly from the lack of food.

 

Looking around his desk, he found a dextro-meal bar on the floor. It must have been what Vorster had thrown him with, and he quickly scooped it up and tore into it, making sure to swallow it before he could taste whatever vile flavour the thing was supposed to be. The commercial ones tasted better than military ration bars, but it wasn't saying much. Like a ravenous Shatha, once he started eating, the hunger for more was all he could think of. Well, he was obviously not going to get much more done tonight, so he saved his progress, picked up a few datapads and headed out the door for one of his regular take-out joints. Silently  he thanked the dark-haired human for his interruption and thoughtfulness, or he might have ended up working till he fell asleep at his desk. Again. Without eating.

  
  


The next morning found him all bright eyed and bushy tailed, ready to tackle this case again. Well, that's what Rodriguez had called him anyway, whatever the human aphorism meant. He had a fair handle on human metaphors for a Turian, but some were just downright bizarre.

 

However, it seemed like his good mood was to be trodden on before he even began. Garrus had barely sat down at his desk, a fresh take-out cup of kava in one hand, some meaty pastries in the other for breakfast, when his omnitool rang with a priority call tone. Looking at the caller ID, the sniper winced before answering the call, face neutral.

 

“Executor, what can I do for you today?”

 

“Vakarian, bring all the progress you've made on the Valesis case to my office. Now.” The dark plated torin sounded mildly pissed about something, and hung up before Garrus could even answer with the proper affirmative. His mandibles twitched in agitation, before he just sighed. There went his good mood for the day. What did or didn’t he do this time? Sometimes he wondered if the Executor just wanted to blame him whenever things went wrong in the department. Nothing for it but to take what little he had on the case and prepare for the dressing down that was sure to follow. He steeled himself and straightened out his uniform as he headed to his boss’s office.

 

The moment he stepped foot into Pallin’s office, he knew this would not be the same as all the other times. There was a tense electricity in the air and he was sure he was not the source, since it was already in place. Without a word, Pallin gestured him to take a seat across his desk, and he did so, stiff and on edge. Something was up and he did not like it. The Executor was keeping his mandibles in tight to his face, subvocals quiet, face in a light scowl and head tucked low to protect his throat. Whatever was going on had Pallin as much on guard as Garrus was now.

 

They stared each other down for a minute, Garrus wanting to maintain protocol for once and waiting for his superior to speak, yet it seemed like he was being tested on this point. The blue painted Turian might have a sniper’s patience when waiting for a target, but this situation made him want to just speak up to break the silence and get done with whatever verbal lashing awaited him. It was an effort not to fidget, but he managed. Slowly, to make sure he was seen, Garrus put the datapads of the case on Pallin’s desk, returning his hands to the armrests in feigned nonchalance.

 

It is then that the scent of someone else in the room finally registered. They were not alone. He whipped his head around and spotted a figure standing quietly in a corner behind the door and unnoticed until now. The dark cloaked figure seemed to be studying him and it took a second for his mind to restart from its stutter when he realized just who it was. His mandibles dropped slightly away from his jaw in awe. It couldn't be… he was dreaming-

 

“Vakarian, the Council has decided to assign a Spectre to your case. They need to show the public results and doing it the _proper_ way seems to be taking too long for them.” Garrus whipped his head back to Pallin so fast he was sure his brain was still spinning inside his head, and it took him another second to come out of his stupor and parse what had been said. Wait, he wasn't in trouble? The dark plated male’s mood suddenly made more sense. To have a case removed from him just to be handed to a Spectre was one of the things Pallin hated more than Garrus’ occasional skirting of the rules to complete his cases. It was right up there next to having to work with Spectres at all. It also explained the tense atmosphere when he entered the office.

 

From the corner, the cloaked figure huffed at the statement. “Really Executor, do not blame the Council when your due process slows down a critical investigation. Time that has cost unnecessary lives, in this case,” came the calm and neutral tones of none other than Spectre Saren Arterius.

  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  


Saren was not pleased, but the council had asked him to work _with_ C-Sec on this case. It was annoying, and would take more time, but, maybe, this officer could be of use. Time would tell. Though he looked a bit shell-shocked right now.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Saren Arterius…. Saren, fucking, Arterius was standing in the room with him! His inner fanboy was going wild at the thought of seeing and actually getting to work with him, but he was trying to contain himself. Not good to lose composure in front of your personal hero.

 

“Vakarian, you are to work with Spectre Arterius. I expect you to properly represent the department in this, and stay at your best...” The Executor’s droning went on, and he nodded at appropriate places, agreeing to anything just to get the formalities out of the way. He was going to work with Saren Arterius, he was going to work with Saren Arterius! Thank you Spirits!

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Maybe he was a bit hasty in his thanks to the Spirits. It was not that glamorous after all. The Spectre hardly spoke to him beyond the case and criticised his work as he went over it with a fine-toothed comb. He questioned all the outlets Garrus had already tried and failed to get results from. Although the silver male could access the files a lot easier and faster than he could and had probably already gone through it beforehand, they both still had no leads. It was kind of a relief to Garrus that even a Spectre as brilliant as Saren Arterius had no answers yet.

 

“Have you tried rigging hidden security cameras in the areas that the regular cameras do not cover, so more avenues are visible to us that the perpetrator does not know about?” Came the next suggestion from the silver-plated torin.

 

“Umm,.. no? There would be so many forms to fill out to requisition cameras and get permission, or to pay for them myself would be ludicrous. Add to that that you would need to set up an insane amount of cameras to cover enough of the hidden alleyways and blind spots in order to catch them.” Garrus had thought of it, but it just wasn’t a viable option.

 

“Hmm,” was the deadpan response.

 

“Are you thinking of doing it yourself?” the slate grey detective questioned, curious.

 

“Perhaps, but you are right, there are too many alleyways to cover. We would never put up enough of them in time for the next murder to catch the perpetrator in the act.” That was not the reason he scratched that idea, nor would it possibly stop the murder from happening, but still a valid point.

 

And so it went. Back and forth, with no good ideas coming to the fore even between the two of them for about an hour and a half in his office.

 

“Let me see the evidence you have collected and notes you made,” Arterius said once they seemed to reach an impasse.

 

“Of course Spectre, but I’m not sure it will do any good. There isn't much to go on.” The Detective had gone over every shred of evidence, every line in the incident forms filed by all involved. There was nothing. Though he wondered what the black-clad male was looking for, he probably had access to the files without even asking. Yet he handed the datapads to the other torin regardless, hoping beyond hope he would find something that he himself had missed. Black talons scroll through the data for a few minutes, and then he goes through the single box of evidence (that did not include the bodies) they had on all the cases that had found a permanent home on his desk the last few weeks.

 

“Do you have any background on the victims beyond what their files stated?” The Spectre asked, going back to scrolling through the datapad.

 

“Not much. From all accounts of family, friends and lovers; they had no real issues or enemies. The only link we have is that their female, effeminate males, or Asari.” The stone grey torin knew the facts of this case like doing his own colony paint by now.

 

“You missed one fact, detective,” Saren stated calmly, still going through a datapad.

 

“...Which is?” He inquired. Sceptical, yet hopeful.

 

“In the statements of friends and family, all of them had some kind of lover's spat in recent weeks or even days before the murder. A public spat, in all cases,” he was still scrolling a datapad like he was reading the daily news, not lifting his eyes to the detective.

 

“Yess? I’ve already followed that up. All of those incidents were in wildly different locations and had no common crowd to watch it or even common lovers.” He had been down this road. Did the Spectre see something he missed?

 

“You are forgetting something. What you’ve missed, detective, is that the victims had a public disagreement. Whoever it is, is targeting disgruntled lovers, not just random feminine individuals. It narrows our search.” The elder torin’s voice might have been calm but the subvocals were scathing, might even have been mocking him. Arterius finally looked up from the datapad and pinned the detective with his electric blue stare. He dropped his eyes to his raised arm to open his omnitool and began typing a few things into it and letting a program run.

 

Nettled by the casual dismissal by his hero, Garrus replied, “So? How are we going to follow every couple with a public dispute out there? We have a whole ward full of people.” He waved his hand in a circle to emphasize his point. “There is no way to follow any of them and hope we follow the right one into a dark alley to catch the perp.” The Spectres point while valid seemed a dead end to Garrus. The odds were just too great against finding their target in such a large area with this method.

 

“We don't have to, detective,” was the Specter’s bland response.

 

“...What?” Garrus’ mandibles fluttered, well and truly befuddled.

 

The Spectre started stalking his office, keeping his stare on the detective. “With all the disputes happening in a public setting, all we have to do is identify them and keep track of them on surveillance cameras with a VI recording everything.”

 

Garrus thought it over for a second, head going down, folding his arms over his keel, one hand coming up to take his chin in a thoughtful pose. “That… is pretty brilliant, but would take too many resources to keep going for long. Eventually, you'll be following half the ward.” he explained, hand gesturing in the air as he spoke. It was something he would want to do, but couldn’t keep up long term without dedicating several large computers to it, which he just so happen to _not_ have.

 

“I am aware. That is why we will set up a situation ourselves to lure out our target.” Arterius answer was bland, like it was the simplest conclusion.

 

“Wait, wait. What? How?!” How was he going to do this? Set up a situation? But that would mean..

 

“We set up a cover identity for myself. You are already an established resident here. So we pose as lovers that tend to have public arguments, and repeat it in similar areas across the ward until we catch the suspect.” Undercover operations were NOT something Garrus had any experience with.  Him? Pose as a lover of Spectre Saren Arterius? Even if under a fake identity? How was he going to pull that off?

 

“How can we be sure they will even be watching at any given time?” He asked instead, keeping his insecurities about the situation to himself.

 

“They will. I have detected a worm in the Citadel security network that does not belong to myself or any of the other Spectres, and I suspect it is our target, watching for certain conditions.” He paused and pointed to his omnitool. “The virus is inactive right now. It seems to gather data and sends it on piggyback with daily maintenance report emails to the receiver. Once we replicate the right kind of situation, the virus activates and sends the clip to the owner. We can track the sent data to the source.”

 

Garrus was speechless and slacked mandibled for a full minute before he got ahold of himself. The silver Spectre had just given them a possible lead. A lead he would never have found since he didn't have that kind of access, permission, or resources. He _could_ hack the Citadel security network and set his home terminal to search for things, but he wouldn’t know which of the viruses in the system belonged to whom, which one to follow or delete, and he would end up with another dead end for his efforts, along with an hour-long speech from both Pallin and his father on how many regulations he was breaking and why he shouldn’t have done that. That wasn’t even covering tagging and following couples with disputes without permission.

 

He once more regretted being kept from going into the Spectres. Just look at how easily the case had a lead because the pale Spectre _could_ get access and knew what was going on. This is what frustrated him most about his job, knowing there was a way but not being able to use it to solve cases from lack of resources or restrictions. He couldn’t help people fast enough in many cases because red tape held him back. Personally having seen the result of two of the murders since being assigned this case, the idea that two murders he might have prevented had occurred, if he’d only had the resources, filled him with resentment.

 

“What about computing power? We would still need an impressive VI to keep track of all the couples while we go about trying to lure them out. Just in case the perpetrator doesn’t come after us next.” He asked to derail his thoughts, now was not the time for such things.

 

Arterius gave a mirthless smile, all teeth, as he answered, “I have that covered.”

 

Oookay? Garrus guessed he would have to go with that, since he couldn’t exactly question a Spectre on his resources. He’d probably just say ‘classified’ and he would have to leave it at that. But maybe.. “What do you mean, got it covered?” He was just too curious, but that’s was what made him a good detective.

 

“Exactly what it means. Now I have a few arrangements to make, I will see you after your shift ends. Do not be late.” He closed out his omnitool and left, leaving Garrus to his thoughts.

 

What was he supposed to do for the rest of the day? He wasn’t going to suddenly sprout a lead like the Spectre did… Or could he? An idea suddenly hit him like a charging Krogan and he jumped behind his terminal and started typing furiously. ‘ _Yes, yes, this just might help.’_ Knowing what he did now, he actually had something to go on. Hacking his way into the code and sifting through information was something he was good at. His superiors just shouldn’t come through that door any time soon.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Saren stalked down the keeper tunnels on his way to the Spectre Office, not wanting to be seen if the murderer chose to backtrack his movements from C-sec. He needed to disappear and one of his standing covers needed to come out at the Citadel Spaceport, and before that he needed to do some paperwork for the case.

 

He was rather impressed with the Detective once he got over being most likely starstruck at meeting none other than Spectre Arterius. He snorts a humourless laugh at that. If he had a credit for everytime that happened to him.. In any case, the Detective had proven himself rather capable. His file stated as much, but he liked to make sure it is a truthful representation of the person. All the ideas he’d come up with initially, the slate-grey torin had already tried, or discounted based on practicality and resources. He expected nothing less from the son of Castis Vakarian, but at least the fledgeling was more pleasant to work with.

 

The Vakarian-clansman’s achievements pointed to a very good candidate for a Spectre. The torin’s technical and physical scores were well within the needed ranges. Pity he never went through with the initial training. The file didn’t really state why other than he had stopped when he was close to the final round of selection and would have moved on into. Saren suspected outside interference, most likely from his father, but that information would take more time to delve up than he was willing to invest into this kind of background check. The information he had was sufficient.

 

Right now what he needed was to get access to the many supplies at the Office and work on his disguise. He would need enough plate dye and colony paint for at least a few weeks. The clothing he would just need to collect at his ship, and then move everything to the detective's apartment.

 

Reaching his destination, he set about darkening his plates and hide to a more muddy brown colour, and applied a simple purple colony paint to his mandibles. He loathed to trim his crest and horns, but at least it was not needed for this cover. The colony marks he’d chosen had a higher percentage of it’s populous with Valluvian horns than any other colony, so he would not seem as much of an abnormality.

 

His first goal completed, he continued to his next destination, as silent as the tunnels around him.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Garrus finally got home at a decent time. First time in weeks, and it took every ounce of willpower to pull away from his terminal to go home at the regular clock-out time. He had been going through so much code today and was on to something, but had had to let it go, loading his progress onto his ‘tool to continue at his apartment.

 

He didn’t want to keep the Spectre waiting. He wasn’t sure where Arterius would meet him after he clocked off, since the elder torin hadn’t specified, but had also not come across him on his usual route.

 

When he first stepped foot into his apartment he froze, alert to his surroundings, hand going to the service pistol on his hip. The door closed behind him and the panel went red automatically. There was someone else’s scent in here. Taking a second, deeper whiff of the air, he recognised it as the same scent as this morning in the Executors office. Arterius had gotten into his apartment. Garrus was both miffed and impressed. His security on the door was better than average as he’d programmed it himself.

 

He relaxed marginally and went down the short hallway in his one bedroom apartment to the lounge and kitchenette area, takeout bag for the two of them in his other hand.  

 

There, looking out of the only window of the apartment, was a figure. Torin, going by the crest, and the same Valluvian horns as the Spectre, but none of the other recognisable features. His plates were a dull muddy brown, his hide a tawny brown, posture slouched and at ease, dressed in the latest fashion and he was _smiling._ Was this what Arterius meant when he said ‘undercover identity’?

 

Before he could voice a question or tentative greeting, the _not_ Spectre Arterius turned around and his smile grew, liquid silver-blue eyes honing in on him. He was struck at just how beautiful they looked. Was this his natural colour? “Garry baby! So good to see you again!” He spread his arms and came over to give Garrus a hug. That did not even remotely sound like the Spectre, voice all high pitched and nearly female. The detective went rigid in surprise, arms hovering in the air, not sure if he should return the embrace or not; when whispered words reached his aural canal.

 

“Act like you know me, fool. There is a security camera in the next building that can catch a portion of your window.” Now that sounded like Arterius.

 

Swallowing his nerves, he returned the embrace. It seemed like the farce was on before he was even briefed on it. He never even knew a camera could see part of his apartment. This complicated matters immensely for him. Not only would he need to act while outside of his apartment, but inside it as well!

 

“Aha, uh. Hi... Glad to see you too. Didn’t know you were coming.” He hoped it sounded believable. He was quick-witted enough to pick up what was going on, now he just needed to act the part.

 

Not-Arterius pulled away, still smiling and with that high pitched voice. Why did it look creepy to him? “Because I wanted to surprise you, of course. But enough about that, I’ve brought some things from my trip for you. It’s in my bag in your room.” The Spectre had a vice-like grip on his wrist, pulling him along to his bedroom.

 

Garrus followed along, stumbling on the first few steps and being genuinely surprised. At least that fit his current role. Only once they were out of sight from the window and in his room, door closed, did the Spectre let go of his almost bruised wrist. The act dropping like a pile of hot potatoes. Now he could see Arterius underneath all the makeup, the stern facial expression and upright posture nearly trademarked to the torin.

 

“We will need to work on your acting skills, they are deplorable.” The Spectre started off, heading to the corner of his small room to where his bag was, starting to rummage through it.

 

“Yeah, it might have helped if I knew you would be here already.” Garrus was suddenly feeling defensive, rubbing at his sore wrist.

 

The fake brown torin came up again with a personal terminal, putting it on the small workbench Garrus had installed in his room, ignoring his comment. “We will work on the case from here, it is already linked into your work terminal. That door is to remain closed at all times. I have added some extra security measures to your apartment to help safeguard this information.”

 

Just like that, he didn’t feel like he was in charge in his own apartment any more. The Spectre had placed quite a few extra weapons around the apartment ‘just in case’, along with listing off the slew of extra precautionary measures added to his security systems. Not even the too small air vents were overlooked.

 

When that was done, they went over the plan in more detail. He was to go to work, as usual, every day, and Arterius would follow his progress from the terminal here, also keeping him updated on any major finds. Every other evening, they would go out on one or another activity as a couple, to establish their relationship with his co-workers, people in the building that knew him and the fact that he was staying with him. From there they would start to have some or another argument every other day they went out at different locations, depending on pre-specified parameters Arterius had determined, until they found the ones that would trigger the virus.

 

Then came the real work. They would have to follow the piggybacked email to the source, and possibly track it down through multiple junctions and hopefully find their mark. If not, they would need to hope that the triggered virus would mean that the murderer would come after them next, and to that end, Arterius would be the likely target, being the more effeminate acting one in the relationship (now wasn’t that just the joke of the century). He could take him down and that would be it, case solved. Garrus hoped.

 

“Do you understand your part in this, Detective?” Came his final words for the evening.

 

“Yes, I understand. What I don’t understand is why you chose to run this out of my apartment and sleep here. I mean, no offence but there must have been easier solutions?” The slate-grey torin asked. His apartment was just barely big enough for one, not to mention where the Spectre would sleep. His couch was in full view of the window, which means one of them couldn’t sleep there while the other took the bed. It would be too out of place for lovers.

 

“Lovers regularly share the same apartment, do they not? It was easier to move the operation here once I’ve established security coverage in the area, rather than to move you and all your belongings to a new location. Also less suspicious.” Ok, he had to give that to the Spectre.

 

“Alright, alright. I concede. But where are we going to sleep? You saw the couch. It’s right by the window, and unless one of us sleeps on the floor, we will have to share the bed.” He pointed out, starting to tire from the day’s events, wanting to get back to his coding search.

 

“I have that sorted,” he said and pulled out a folded up military cot from his bags, unfolding it and placing it in the corner. He would have to fold it back up every day in order for Garrus to access his cupboard, but it was a weight off his shoulders. He breathed a sigh of relief, he wouldn’t need to take this fake relationship as far as sharing a bed with the Spectre. Not that he would mind.., just... He hadn’t dreamed of sharing a bed with a personal hero like Saren Arterius.

 

“Ah.” Was all he could come up with. After staring at each other awkwardly for a few minutes, Garrus broke away and headed for his terminal, taking a seat and turning it on.”I've come up with another lead. Not a very big one, but it might just narrow down who or what our killer is.” He changed the subject from sleeping together to work. Much safer topic.

 

This prickled the Spectre's interest, it seemed, and he moved closer to look over his right shoulder, expectantly. ”Well?”

 

Garrus braced himself for rejection, but was hoping Arterius could narrow down his search parameters further. “After you mentioned the worms in the security system, I hacked into it and started looking at all of those present. Looking at their base code.”

 

The Spectre raised an artificially brown browridge at him, prompting him to continue. “Each person codes differently, based on where they learned to code. If you can eliminate those viruses that you do not suspect is from our killer, I have an analysis program ready to tell us the most likely origin of the person who wrote it, maybe even race. Like a human fingerprint.”

 

Both browridges rise now in an expression of surprise, and then back down in contemplation. “Yes, yes. That could work. Let me have a look at that.” Garrus rose and swapped the seat with the brown torin.

 

A few swipes on the screen and some typing on his omnitool later, and Garrus was left looking at one code. “What does your analysis say about that code?” The Spectre asked.

 

Pulling up his analysis program of each of the codes on his omnitool, he transferred it to the workstation. Running the program for a few minutes, he found the correct one and showed it to the Spectre. “Here. This coding language is originally from Sur’kesh, and the style is taught in a few of the main universities in the capital, so that would mean our murderer is most likely a Salarian.”

 

Arterius nodded in approval, subvocals saying the same. “Good work. But it only narrows our search marginally. It could still be another race that studied there,” but all Garrus heard was ‘good work’ coming from someone he looked up to instead of being reprimanded for not following the rules. It felt damn good.

 

They looked over some more code, looking for personal tells in the way the virus was written, but didn’t come up with anything meaningful and called it a night. After eating their reheated takeout, Garrus offered the bed to the Spectre, but he politely refused, stating he could not chase him from his own bed. It was why he brought the cot to begin with.

 

The next two days, they continued working in this fashion, Garrus going to work, seeming happier and answering questions in that regard to co-workers, and they actually worked well together which made the happy part easier to pull off, and returning home in the evenings at a more decent hour. Before long their first planned ‘date’ was to be had at a little restaurant close by that Garrus frequented. Garrus was nervous since they had hardly had to act much as a couple yet in public view, and now everyone was watching. Or at least he felt like it. A few of his co-workers also frequented the place, so they would be seen together.

 

It worked out better than he thought and the Spectre was quite pleasant at conversation, and rather charming. The next time they went to the range together, where he could show off his skills as a sniper, the Spectre seemed genuinely impressed by his performance, or was just that good at acting, he wasn’t sure. Arterius didn't score as high as he thought, but he supposed it was part of the cover. Eventually, they settled into a rhythm and Garrus became more at ease with the whole situation, even starting to look forward to their evenings out.

 

Before long though, they started arguments, ranging on all topics and at differing intensities. After the fifth try, they got a hit and were able to follow the email. Only it was bounced off of several other terminal addresses to try and confuse anyone trying to backtrack it. Whoever this was, was no slouch at tech. It probably used half the terminals across the Citadel as via-points. It would take them a week just to sift through all the dummy hosts and bounced terminals to find the real delivery point.  Time they didn't have, but Garrus got started on it nonetheless. It was progress. And that’s when the next break in the case came to him.

 

“Hey Samil, I got something for you here, if you want to look?” The Spectre had him calling him Samil, his cover name, even while in the apartment. He eventually saw why, as he was less likely to slip up in public, being used to it by then.

 

“Yeah Garry, what is it?” He answered smoothly, coming into the bedroom from the lounge and closing the door. Garry was his nickname, one he didn’t really like much but went with for lack of any better suggestions.

 

Once sure of their privacy, he continued. “Based on the medical reports, the killer has to have some multi-species medical training to know of a substance that can cause a heart attack in each victim, but disintegrates in the bloodstream by the time the body is found. All the cuts for dismemberment were also surgical in their precision and likely done with high-quality medical equipment. If we add that parameter to our search of people with the tech knowledge and coding ability we already have, we’re looking for one very qualified medtech.”

 

The Spectre perked up at the knowledge. “Good work.” Came the praise, making his heart and chest swell with pride, but he tried not to show it.

 

“I’ll access the files of all graduates fitting those parameters in the last few years that moved to the Citadel. That should give us a smaller number of candidates to work with.” and Arterius quickly opened his omnitool, typing away and letting the search run. For now, that was all they could do.

 

While they were busy with all this, Arterius had his off-site program running to track lovers with disputes, and as he suspected, they were tracking quite a few couples by the end of the week, all of whom had triggered the virus to send the security footage on via mail. But it still didn't give them a killer but it did narrow the argument parameters, which helped them focus their efforts in trying to lure out the target.

 

They later discovered there was a rather large list of people that fit their search parameters that now worked at the Citadel, being the multi-species hot pot that it was. Arterius set to tracking each of them, making Garrus wander just how much computing power he had at his disposal.

 

By the end of their third week, the stress started to mount on Garrus, as Pallin and the Council were expecting results now that he was working with the Spectre. Results he didn't have. Almost daily, Pallin would call him in to report on their progress, he suspected the Council were demanding similar reports from Arterius if the tense line of his back and shoulders was any indication.

 

One night, while going over the code again, Garrus felt the now familiar presence of the Spectre behind him. “You seem tense Garrus, maybe you need me to help get rid of it,” he purred in that feminine voice he had come to associate with the Spectres’ cover identity. Garrus was taken aback by the straightforward question. Apart from some touches in public and their arguments, things had been tame and all fake for the case, right?

 

“I, uhm,... uh... didn't know you were actually interested.” Great comeback line Garrus, really going to land a lay with that, he mentally berated himself.

 

“The Council is demanding results, Pallin is probably doing the same to you?” He inquired, fingerpads beneath his talons gently kneading into Garrus’ tense shoulder muscles.

 

“Hmmhmm” Came his mumbled reply, enjoying the kneading into muscles sore from sitting over a terminal all day, tired from long the nights they were putting in, and Pallin was on his case for results, wanting the perp caught before his next victim joined the list. He needed some relief, maybe Arterius did as well.

 

“I propose a mutually beneficial agreement.” Garrus looked up at the term used by the Spectre, browplate rising in question. Instead of an answer, the undercover Spectre lead him from his workbench to the bed.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The next morning, Garrus awoke, pleasantly sore and with a few extra scratches to boot, but he couldn't care less. It had been the first night they had shared the bed, he hadn't felt this relaxed in a long, long time and today was his day off, where he and Arterius were to spend the day out together again. He was looking forward to it for once. Movement in his periphery made him turn to look up at the Spectre getting dressed, looking somewhat more relaxed as well. Strange, how in a few short weeks he was able to tell these minor things. His thoughts were interrupted.

 

“Come, we have a busy day ahead.” The words were not unkind or as short with him as the Spectre usually was. Whatever the reason, he'd take it.

 

“Sure” He yawned and got up, getting ready for the day.

  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Saren was rather impressed with the larger torin. His work ethic was what he would look for in a spectre trainee, and even though he was out of service, the Vakarian clansman had kept in shape, more than what is required for his service. He was also the best sniper he had ever seen, and that was saying something. The more he thought about it, the more it became clear what he should do.

 

They had just finished another meal at a restaurant and had argued over trivial things as agreed upon, and he was now headed back to Garrus’s apartment after a rather pleasant day. Garrus had gone to assist with another case, so he decided to walk alone down a few alleyways with no surveillance. Saren rarely took the time off like this if he wasn't under cover, always too busy with the next mission on his list. Despite their frustrating lack of real progress the last few weeks had been … nice. He shook the thought from his head quickly as he turned into his designated shortcut, meant to give the murderer more opportunities to go after him instead of any of the other thousands of couples they were following at this stage.

 

Upon entering the alleyway, he was immediately on edge. Something was off and his years as a Spectre had taught him to listen to his instincts. Outwardly he carried on like nothing was amiss. Subtly, he charged up his biotics, ready to throw up a biotic barrier at a moment's notice. The hidden pistol on his inner thigh was within easy reach as well. Perhaps they had gotten lucky and he was indeed next on the hit list.

 

A buzzing sound reached his augmented aural canals and he looked up into a small swarm of… insects? On the Citadel? His barrier was up and repelling the little bugs when he realised they were robotic as they flew into his barrier with little pinging noises. Robots like that would need to be controlled with a close-range transmitter, so he quickly searched all the hidden pockets of shadow there were, when a new sounded joined the buzzing. Focusing back on the insects, they were releasing some kind of gas. Of course, all the victims had died of a heart attack with no injection sites. The compound must break down in the bloodstream shortly after causing cardiac arrest.

 

Holding his breath, Saren tried to get out from under the small cloud of insects, to where he could safely take a breath again. A glimpse of moving cloth caught his eye and that is when he spotted him. A Salarian was frantically typing away on his omnitool in awell-hidden corner of the alleyway. Acting swiftly, he tried to pull the grey Salarian out of hiding and hold a pistol to his head.

 

The slippery bastard  dodged the spectres initial biotic grab and ducked behind some crates, bombarding his barrier with the robotic swarm. Not daring to breath yet, but thinking on his feet, he triggered a hotkey on his own omnitool and sent out a localised overload, frying the robots.  He didn’t have a clear torso shot but he had a clean one to his attackers foot, but before he could take it, a shot fired before his with pinpoint accuracy. He didn’t dare look who it was just yet, not wanting to lose the suspect.

 

A yelp of pain said the shooter hit his mark and after making sure he was far enough away from the gas cloud, Saren took a greedy gulp of air. Greenish blood was pooling slowly from the cornered the murderer was hiding in and his steady aim kept the salarian pinned with his pistol. Another flick of a wrist had him dialing Vakarian, only it rang at the other end of the alley. Not wavering with his pistol, he looked towards the end to see Garrus coming in, sniper rifle pointed at the now cursing Salarian with a hole in his foot. They had their suspect at last.

 

“Curse your ancestors that crawled out of the primordial muck!” was one of the many insults thrown around that night as C-Sec came by to collect the murderer. Luckily the media hadn't caught on to just what case this was and so the arrest went mostly unnoticed. Another routine mugging gone wrong. Garrus’ partner nodded to the two and made certain that the confiscated omnitool was securely locked away in his armor before entering the police cruiser, murderer secured in the back with a bandaged foot.

 

Finding Garrus, Saren questioned him, curious as to how the detective had known where to find him.

 

“Just how did you know that our suspect was in that alley tonight?” he questioned, subviocals curious.

 

The younger torin scratched his cheek, looking sheepish. “Well, I actually just had a feeling that someone was watching us while we ate. So I doubled backed here to follow you.  When I saw those bugs and you fighting them I knew we had our murderer. Blocking his escape was the easy and logical part.”

 

Saren only nodded at him, and then walked away, swiftly disappearing from sight. The mission was done and he wanted to be anywhere but where the media vultures would feast on this news. By the time Garrus got home, his apartment was empty of all the Spectres things, even his body scrub. It felt oddly lonely to him all of a sudden.

  


~~~~~~~~~

 

Several weeks passed by in monotonous, routine cases for Garrus. The big case was finally  over, perpetrator convicted, sentenced and on his way to prison. Apparently, the murderer was going off on revenge killing, not being allowed to choose his own mate by his Dalatrass, and taking it out on any other ‘happy’ couples that would argue over the smallest things.

 

He’d taken a certain amount of teasing about his missing boyfriend from his coworkers but it had faded when he wouldn't rise to their baiting. He did get some form of recognition from Pallin for his hard work though, in the form of a satisfied nod, and not bothering him too much for a few days after. Then it went back to their usual routine.

 

One day after he’d stopped at his favorite take away place and opened the door to his apartment, returning home from another average day. The one thing the Spectre had left was the enhanced security suite. When he went to drop his food on the counter, he got a faint whiff of a now, very familiar scent, and spotted a datapad on the counter. One he knew he hadn’t left there.  Curious as to what the Spectre wanted he gathered up a furka, his food, a beer and the datapad under his arm. Once he was comfortable on the cubitura he took the datapad and opened it, fingerprint and DNA encoded before he could access anything, and nearly let it fall to the floor in shock.

 

The message said: Congratulations, you have been accepted into the Spectre training program...

 

**Author's Note:**

> To an awesome person that has endeared me to this pairing. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Thank you Spicy_Gnome for being a speedy beta, who added more life to the story.


End file.
